


we're the new romantics

by lovefern



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (it's soccer cause this is set in America), Alternate Universe - High School, Bottom Louis, First Time, Football Player Louis, Hand Jobs, Louis pines, M/M, Pining, Underage Drinking, again its set in america, and barbara never even appears, harry drives a motorcycle, in case there's confusion, like three seconds of angst, lots of kissing and biting etc, niall's just there to have a laugh, oh and some fluff because its louis and harry how could i not, that's about it yep, the ziam isn't very prominent sorry, this is just pining and sex, zayn and liam are really touchy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 06:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3164519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovefern/pseuds/lovefern
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“But listen why is his dick so big?” This is definitely the sixth time Louis has asked this.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Louis, nerds can have big dicks. Being studious doesn't make your dick small,” Zayn states, taking a sip of his fruit juice.</em>
</p><p><em>“Now is not the time for big words Zayn, I am having a crisis.”</em> </p><p>
  <em>He rolls his eyes, “When aren't you panicking over dick?”</em>
</p><p>Alternatively, a high school au where Louis pines and Harry is not who he seems to be. Featuring peanut butter banana milkshakes, motorcycles, and first times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're the new romantics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bethaboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethaboo/gifts).



> this is my first fic in the one direction fandom and I had a lot of personal issues while writing this so it might be absolute crap but I hope it's good and lives up to your expectations as I took quite a few liberties with the prompt. I did need an extension but I ended up trying all three prompts and settling on this one since there can never be enough hs aus (though they were all great). I hope that you like it and I did your idea justice!
> 
> big thank you to the mods for letting me have an extension 
> 
> and of course thank you to my wonderful beta N, who helped me so much, and to R, K, and C for reading and rereading this fic -- you guys rock -- any leftover grammar mistakes or plot mishaps are my fault.
> 
> title from "new romantics" by taylor swift 
> 
> (it goes without saying this is all untrue etc etc don't show this to the boys etc etc)

It takes Louis twenty three minutes to realize that this party is a waste of time. He's been wandering around the room that entire time searching for someone cute to hook up with but the entire house is filled with his soccer team and their girlfriends as well as the rest of their school-- which is useless because ever since he started his final year in the godforsaken town high school, he’s exhausted the search. It’s not as if anyone is willing to have a relationship either, everyone already taken or stuck in the closet, counting skeletons. Louis is glad he had left those behind, and he wishes everyone could be so lucky to have a supportive family and set of friends.

As it is, he is bored and tired of his own hand. Liam had left him as soon as they came in, pushing through the crowd and waving goodbye as he rushed towards the kitchen where he was meant to meet someone. Louis had considered following him to see who it was but somebody handed him a beer upon his entrance into the living room so he didn't have to go himself. The perks of being a captain, he thinks, as he scans the room one more time, seeing Liam standing in the corner next to a lamp with his hand on Zayn Malik’s waist. Which, yeah. A feat in and of itself, seeing as it took Liam a whole year to get over his ex girlfriend Danielle when she graduated. Louis tries not to be bitter; he had offered to hook up with Liam to help with the post break up pains but he declined, screaming, “I am 100% not gay Louis Tomlinson; get your cock away from me so help me God!” Apparently Liam was not 100% not gay around Zayn. Maybe only 45%.

He almost regrets wearing his favorite red jeans even if they were part of his celebratory outfit. The high of the win goes down when the party is boring and everyone has long forgotten his marvelous goal, instead choosing to make out with each other. Louis drains the last bit of his beer, cringing at the cheap taste, and puts the bottle down on the side of wine cabinet of whoever’s house this is. He catches sight of a few spills on the expensive wood and feels bad for the poor kid when their parents come home.

His phone buzzes with a text and he unlocks it to find Niall’s contact flashing across the screen: _bro where r u come to kitchen !!_

Louis pockets the phone, pushing through crowds of grinding teenagers and heads to the kitchen. It takes exactly three minutes for Niall to find him, leaping forward.

“Louis! Why are your hands empty? Where’s your drink?” He asks, blue eyes bright and wide, glinting from alcohol consumption. He looks hyper, lips red from making out with whoever happened to be his crush of the week. Recently it had been Barbara, and Louis hopes for his own sake that hadn’t happened, otherwise they wouldn’t hear the end of it for ages. It had already been Barbara this Barbara that Barbs looks amazing in her cheerleading skirt god have you seen her eyes?

“I’m tired of piss beer love,” Louis states, pushing the drunk boy off of him and fixing his white shirt so it sits perfectly on his shoulders, showing just a bit of skin. He hopes to get a tattoo there one day, just below his collarbones.

“I got this, Niall’s got you, did you know I wanted to be a bartender? I’m going to make you a drink you’ll never forget.”

“If I remember the next day at all after this shit,” He mumbles to himself, watching as Niall starts pulling bottles off of the shelf like he owns the place. He pours a bit of everything, mixing it expertly with a finger then sucking on it.

“Ahhh, yes, it’s perfect,” Niall picks up the plastic cup and hands it to Louis, watching with excitement as he stares at the weird blue green shade and takes a cautious sip.

It tastes decent: slightly too sweet, with a rough, bitter after taste, but Louis smiles brightly for Niall’s benefit. Hurting Niall’s feelings is like kicking a puppy, Louis thinks sometimes, so drinking this lethal combination is probably worth it as long as the idiot doesn’t start frowning and mumbling about wanting to move back to Ireland.

Niall had come to America when Louis and Liam were just in their first year of high school, and while at first they were a bit apprehensive at letting new people in, having been best friends since they were little children, Niall had fit in easily, adding a third dynamic to their little group. By the second year of high school they had gotten a bit closer with Zayn, the artist of the school, after Louis had stumbled into him smoking behind the bleachers during their practice. He had offered him a hit of the cigarette and Louis nodded excitedly, taking a drag before waving as he ran back to Liam who was impatiently waiting to continue practicing dribbles. Ever since then they had been occasional friends, hanging out once in a while. Liam was always a little shy and quiet around Zayn, but Louis thinks he understands why tonight. He could probably go back into the living room and find them flirting in the corner still, hands carefully skimming over each other’s arms, but he’s lazy.

There’s a boy standing at the sink, washing dishes, his back to Louis. It takes him just seconds to scan the broad shoulders fitted in a sheer black t-shirt down to the narrow waist and the slight hips leading down to muscular things, all the way down down down long legs in tight skinny jeans that Louis marvels at. They look painted on, tucked into brown suede boots, a slight heel on them, the toes pointed inwards slightly. He looks perfect. And Louis hasn’t even seen his face.

Pushing Niall off, Louis flashes a bright smile at the boy, slowly walking towards the kitchen counter beside the sink. The room is darker than normal, the lights dimmed for effect, and Louis wonders how he is washing dishes. And why.

He steps up to the counter, leaning on it with his hip cocked out, one hand on the cold granite. He spends a moment observing the side profile of this boy, the careful slope of his nose, his eyelashes fanning over his cheeks casting shadows on his cheeks which are tinted red from the room lights. His lips look full and pink and Louis wants to reach over and press his thumb into the bottom lip to see if they feel as good as they look. He doesn’t get a chance to snap himself out of that thought before the boy is placing a dish into the dryer rack and turning to face him, eyebrow raised in question.

Louis stands dumbstruck, trying to comprehend how on Earth this boy is real and where he came from- if the Gods just dropped him down at a random house party in the middle of nowhere and tied a little apron around his hips. Because as it turns out, he’s got a pink apron decorating his front, the light frills making a stark contrast against the black of his top. There’s a leather jacket hanging off of one shoulder and Louis wonders if it would be rude to ask him to put it on, but he’s not sure if he wants his tattoos to be covered up. There’s a huge ship on his arm and Louis wants to bite it, wants to decorate the ship with some purple and then the rest of this boy as well.

He is almost finished washing dishes, his huge hands holding a glass and making it seem tiny in comparison as he soaps it up and scrubs at the inside. Louis notes his curls falling down his face, the long ringlets of brown dragging down his neck, and he’s never wanted to move them to the side more, to tug on them softly and to press his lips to the clear skin.

The boy coughs softly, making Louis jump from his lust-induced trance. He has never wanted a boy more in his life, and that includes Chad Michael Murray. So of course he needs to have him.

So naturally, he opens with the line sure to sweep any guy off his feet: “Do you often come to parties and do the dishes?” Maybe not his best line, admittedly, but he didn’t fancy offering to get on his knees while the boy had porcelain in his hands and might drop it from shock or something.

“Do you often stare at people while they’re washing dishes?” The boys asks back, and Louis thinks he’s melted, thinks he’s off at another galaxy exploring the stars and comets and his knees are weak. Because his voice is like red velvet batter and hot chocolate on cold mornings, and maybe Niall’s drink is stronger than he was ready for. He takes another sip anyway.

“Only the pretty boys,” Is his response, followed by a cheesy and exaggerated wink.

“Way to make me feel special then, Tomlinson, you sure know how to treat a lady,” The boy smirks, placing the last dish on the rack and wiping his hands on a tea towel. His green eyes flash in the lights from the living room colored lamps that had been set up, making them seem darker and bigger.

“How do you know my last name?” Louis asks, watching as the boy takes Louis’ cup and smells it, grimacing.

“Niall made this didn’t he? He tried to get me to drink some earlier and I just couldn’t. I prefer wine if I’m honest.” He heads to the fridge like he owns it, pulling out a bottle of red and pouring it into the cheap plastic cups. He it offers it to Louis, and he takes the drink, sipping it slowly and savoring the taste after the liquid poison Niall had tried to feed him. As the boy pours himself a cup he continues, “And you’re captain of the soccer team, everyone knows who you are.”

Mate. Louis frowns. That won’t do. “Well, if you know my name I should know yours. It’s only fair right?”

The boy smirks with his lips pressed to the edge of the cup, slowly drinking the wine. He lowers it just a bit so his purple stained lips show as he smiles, and he has dimples, of course he has dimples, why would he not have dimples-- what doesn’t this boy have-- and says, “‘M Harry. Pleasure to meet you Louis Tomlinson.”

 

~~~~~

 

Louis doesn’t learn much about Harry but with the boy pushing him against a wall, holding his hands above his head, Louis can tell he doesn’t disappoint. It’s not as if Louis had elaborate ideas of how Harry would feel against him as they drank wine and slowly made their way to the basement of the house, but he couldn’t look at plump lips and not expect them to feel amazing grazing against his neck.

And they do. Louis moans appreciatively, letting himself go pliant in Harry’s grip and leans against the wall, Harry’s knee between his legs as he grinds down slowly. His hands are useless above him, and he wants to reach out and touch touch touch but he can’t help the way his back arches for more as he feels the restraint on his wrists. Usually he has to be the one in charge, always showing what he wants, but it’s like Harry can read him, can tell that just for tonight he needs to be pushed around a bit.

They kiss messily, wine on their tongues as their lips slip and slide against each other, tongues slowly licking across teeth, tasting. Harry kisses the opposite of how he pressed Louis against him, his body wanting more at once, but his mouth content to explore and mark new territory at a torturously slow pace. He pulls away, making Louis chase after his tongue, his mouth moving slowly across his jaw and peppering soft kisses in its wake. He lets his mouth skin down his neck, kissing behind Louis’ ear and then licking a hot stripe down the flesh and slowly letting his teeth push down. Pain spreads in his neck and Louis whimpers, grinding down harder onto Harry’s thigh, his cock pressing against the denim of their jeans and the hard line of muscle in his leg. He can feel Harry’s dick against his hip, pushing closer, and he wants to skip the foreplay, wants to get his mouth on it. Harry licks over the spot he just bit, soothing the pain and moves a bit to the left, settling near his Adams apple and sucking on the skin. Louis knows the bruises will be a problem tomorrow, but he figures he’ll wear a scarf or something-- blame it on the cold winter rapidly approaching.

It occurs to Louis then that they are still standing in the hallway leading to the basement of some teammate of his’ house, where anybody could catch them. Moving away, he takes a shuddery breath and pulls on Harry’s hand, tugging him towards the door. As he opens it, he assesses the room, finding a couch in the corner and not bothering to check for anything else or turn off the dim light from some lava lamps in the corner before he pushes Harry onto the soft leather seat and climbs onto his lap.

“You never told me-- fuck,” He pauses as Harry pushes his shirt up, latching onto a nipple and tugging on it with his teeth. “You never told me why you were, ah, washing the dishes.” He barely finishes the sentence as Harry swirls his tongue around the hardened bud, sucking on it with a soft hum.

He pulls off, replacing his mouth with his fingers, tugging on both of Louis’ nipples and twisting just enough to make his cock twitch. Louis thinks if he doesn’t get his pants off soon he might pass out. “It was messy, I hate messes, and I was bored, so I just, “ He whispers, not finishing the sentence as he tugs on Louis’ earlobe and moves his hands to his crotch, unbuttoning the jeans. “Gonna make a mess out of you though.”

Louis snorts, giggling loudly, a hiccup escaping his mouth. “A right charmer you are.” Harry smirks and Louis just barely makes it out in the darkness of the room as he feels his jeans being pushed down below his ass, his underwear following suit. Harry pulls them down just enough to reach his cock, one hand immediately wrapping around it.

The dry sensation would probably annoy sober Louis, but Niall’s mixture had worked its magic and Harry’s huge hand felt fantastic against his hot dick. Harry leaned forward, kissing him sloppily, their mouths misaligning, teeth scraping lips. Louis bites down on Harry’s bottom lip and the boy lets out a low grown, bucking up softly, his hand faltering on Louis’ cock. He resumes his pace quickly, swiping a thumb over the head and letting the pre come wet his movements.

“You’re so wet, god.” Louis moans at the boy’s words, tugging on his hair and feeling his body stutter below him. His lips find the soft skin on Harry’s chest, tugging down the shirt with his teeth and letting his tongue roam the hot flesh as his hands continue to tug and pull on the curls. He could feel Harry’s cock below him, pushing up into his ass crack and he grinds down slightly, biting at his collarbone, hearing him whimper as his hand quickens its pace. He’s so big, makes Louis want to abandon all caution and bend over the couch, letting Harry push inside, but he lets that thought go. This is a one night thing. They always are.

Harry swipes his thumb under the head, pushing down the foreskin and rubbing the sensitive nerves making Louis twitch on his lap, back arching as he moans out loud. Harry looks mesmerized, his face awestruck like he’s never seen anything more beautiful, but Louis can tell that with the way his hand is enveloping his cock right now, it’s not the first time. A part of his, the more possessive side, wants to make this the best handjob he’s ever given and he moans again, louder, more wild. Louis knows he looks feral, his teeth biting his own lip, neck bared, hair sweaty and matted against his forehead; he’s watching himself before the mirror before, seen the way his face flushes with the proper touch.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Harry pants out, moving his hips up in a weird rhythm, chasing the pressure of Louis’ ass from where its pushed down onto his clothed cock. “Fuck, never seen anyone like you. Pretty, pretty boy, pretty.”

The words barely leave his mouth before Louis is coming, the word pretty echoing in his ears as he shakes and bends forward, resting his forehead against Harry’s, little whines coming out of his own mouth. He almost doesn’t recognize himself, the way he whimpers Harry’s name as he comes down, as the boy presses soft kisses to his face, mumbling shh.

The orgasm slowly drains out of him, like a wave retreating from shore, and he looks down at the mess on his own stomach and all over Harry’s hand. “Let me do you,” He mutters, eyes slowly closing, the alcohol and orgasm making him tired and sleepy suddenly. He wishes he hadn’t drank the wine, knows it makes him loose limbed and lazy after, but he can’t bring himself to regret it too much as Harry presses another kiss to his lips.

“It’s ok, I got this, just let me-” He lifts Louis slightly, tugging down his own pants and Louis watches as his cock pops out hitting against his black tshirt, the tip leaking in the barely lit room.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” He whispers, dazed. He’d seen plenty of cocks in his life, mostly from porn (even though lately he’s been avoiding that after his mom had caught him and lectured him on the horrible mistreatment of pornstars) and quite a few from his own hook ups. He’s never wanted to get his mouth on a dick so much before, however, the length making his mouth water as he thinks about how his jaw will ache, trying to stretch around the girth, how it will hurt to swallow for a few days after.

Harry nods, almost embarrassed as he wraps the hand coated in Louis’ come around his dick, pumping it quickly. He doesn’t tease, no little touches and presses like he had for Louis. Instead he chases his orgasm, pumping his hand faster and faster as he whines deeply, voice rough and gravelly. His other hand sneaks behind Louis, grabbing onto his ass, massaging the flesh roughly, his fingertips just barely pressed against his asscrack. “Wanna get my mouth on that ass one day, fuck, should know how good you look on the field-- shit, in your little white shorts, bouncing all over the place,” Harry breaks off with a moan, his nails digging into hot skin, feeling the muscle. His eyes are half closed, pupils just barely focused on Louis in front of him, watching him. Louis can’t help but lean forward, leaving little kitten licks all over Harry’s neck, watching his cheeks get redder, his curls pressed to his forehead as he moans Louis’ name.

Louis thinks he’s never heard a prettier sound, never wants to hear his name any other way, as he bites down on Harry’s jaw, hard enough to bruise, and the boy falls apart. He lets out a loud whine followed by a “Fuck Lou Lou fuck Lou” as he comes, white streaking his already wet hand and hitting Louis’ chest.

When he stops shaking, he opens his eyes lazily, the green shining brightly as he leans forward and kisses Louis again. “Sorry for coming on you babe.”

Louis refrains from telling him to come in his mouth next time-- probably not the best thing to tell to a one night hook up, especially if there is no next time guaranteed. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Harry smiles brightly, reaching over on the couch and grabbing a blanket and wiping his hand and Louis’ chest. “All set,” He smiles deviously, throwing the used blanket back where it was.

“Harry! This isn’t your house!”

“Yeah but I washed the dishes, so, I pretty much made up for it didn’t I?”

Louis bursts into laughter as he stands up, pulling his underwear and pants back up. Harry carefully maneuvers his dick back into his pants, hissing, still sensitive.

When they’ve both cleared up Louis considers asking Harry for his number, or something, but the boy glances down at his watch and curses. “I-uh, I gotta go, told mum I’d be home by one.”

Louis nods slowly, letting Harry pull him upstairs into the kitchen, grabbing his jacket off the counter where he had left it.

Harry tugs it on, the leather creating a stark contrast with his pink swollen lips and crazy curls.

They get outside, Harry pulling Louis up to his motorcycle, and of course he has a motorcycle he has a fucking leather jacket. Harry’s got a helmet in one hand as he leans down, kissing Louis’ cheek. It seems too gentle almost, after the way he had bitten his neck earlier, but it’s nice.

“I’ll see you around, I guess,” Harry says, getting onto the bike, and pulling on his helmet. He starts the engine, the entire motorcycle roaring to life as he winks once, flipping his visor down and sets off down the street before Louis can even agree.

It isn’t until Louis steps back into the house that he realizes the party is still going on.

 

~~~~~

 

He had thought he regretted introducing Liam to Zayn when they were awkwardly pining over each over for so long, ever since Liam finally got over Danielle. But he regrets them finally realizing the chemistry between them even more. Lunch just started and he already wants to vomit up the sandwich he’s barely taken three bites of. It wasn’t so bad when he first walked into the lunchroom with Niall to find the two of them sitting next to each other smiling into their food. Yet he’s been kicked three times by now accidentally, each time Liam apologizing profusely and stuffing his mouth full, as if Louis is stupid enough not to realize that the idiots are playing footsie under the table. It’s a painful ordeal for everyone involved really, and if they share one more lovestruck glance, Louis might just move his seat.

It’s not as if he isn’t happy for them, but he also doesn’t appreciate them not listening to his story about the weekend. Just because the two of them already found love doesn’t mean Louis has found his soul mate. So naturally they need to help. Niall is his solace, listening to every word as long as Louis keeps ignoring the way he is sneaking chips from his plate.

“I just don’t understand-- how have I never seen this kid before?” Louis asks, disgruntled and bitter. He still has hickies all over his neck, having put on a scarf that morning but quickly taken it off once he got to class so everyone could see it and know.

“Leather jacket? Are you sure you didn’t fuck Zayn, cause he’s the only kid I know who can rock a leather jacket in this school,” Niall mutters.

“Heyyyyyy, he was with me all night,” Liam practically yells, making Zayn turn a shade darker and Niall to quickly resemble a tomato as he turns redder.

“Thanks for letting us know Liam, honestly, it’s like I couldn’t tell you two have swapped bodily fluids,” Louis says. “And no it definitely wasn’t Zayn, even though he is quite good looking. This guy was like my perfect man, he was absolutely gorgeous and he had ruby red lips and his eyes were so green and his jawline could cut glass, wow, honestly.”

“Sounds unreal mate, how drunk were you?” Zayn asks, popping a fish stick in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

“Pretty sure the jizz stains on my shirt were his.”

“Gross!” Niall yells. “Keep that shit to yourselves before I go off into detail about how good Babs looked below me.”

“Alright now we know that’s unreal,” Louis mumbles, leaning back in his seat as Niall slaps at him.

 

~~~~~

 

By the beginning of November, a month later, Louis is frantic. Niall doesn’t see the big fuss, muttering about how he really isn’t that concerned with fueling Louis’ bad boy wank fantasies, and Liam and Zayn are too busy in their own little bubble to take a look outside and realize some people need help getting laid.

Except it’s not really getting laid at this point anymore. By now Louis would settle for simply getting to look at Harry, to see his lips curl as he talks, to hear his laugh. But he doesn’t pine. Doesn’t dream about leather jackets and soft curls and shiny green eyes. He doesn’t press two fingers inside himself in the middle of the night, pushing his face into the cool pillow as he tries to imagine much larger fingers rubbing against his prostate. He doesn’t lean against the shower wall with his cock in a loose fist and wish the hand was bigger, he doesn’t let the water cascade down his face as he moans Harry’s name. No. That would be pathetic. And Louis Tomlinson is not pathetic.

Niall blames him for not getting Harry’s number, claiming “Sorry bro I don’t know a Harry, I can’t help you,” but Louis tells him to eat his ass. Which he doesn’t decline, but does say he might need to be well drunk in order for that to happen. It is what it is.

So by the middle of November, a bottle of lube and fifty six doodles and various poems in his notes later, he’s practically given up.

 

~~~~~

 

Louis hadn’t meant to be late. He was sitting in the library with Zayn, drawing on one of Zayn’s expensive art paper pads after Louis had grabbed it out of his hand. They quickly turned to pictures of various penises, different shapes and sizes and with different characteristics. That quickly turned to Zayn drawing an extremely descriptive penis and labeling it as Liam’s, at which point Louis decided it was finally time for class, and maybe some bleach for his mind to forget the extreme amount of pubic hair Zayn had taken careful time to shade in.

When he arrives, the class is just ending and Mrs. Wells raises an eyebrow at him for walking in as the bell rings.

He grins sheepishly, hoping not to land himself another detention, as he walks towards the desk. “I’m so sorry, I got caught up-”

“Harry! Please show Louis your notes from today’s class. And Louis, dear, make this the last lateness of the year unless you’ve got a missing limb.” She raises her eyebrows, annoyance written into her features as she pushes her glasses further up her nose and tucks some hair behind her ear.

She is packing up her stuff when Louis feels a body beside his and he’s sort of stuck on the name “Harry” and the fact that this could very well be the moment of truth. Naturally, he doesn’t want to turn, worried it might be someone else and he had gotten his hopes up once again just as he had every time he spotted brown curls turning a corner in the hallway or heard a motorcycle drive by (which is kind of stupid because there’s many motorcycles in this town, but Louis never claimed to be smart).

He feels a tap on his shoulder as the teacher walks out of the room, and pulls on his hoodie, trying to get it to fit comfortably. Taking exactly three even breaths Louis turns to the boy beside him.

“Hey, here’s the papers, you can photocopy them and bring them back tomorrow. It’s going to be on the test next week so I’d suggest you do look over these,” He says, and Louis knows that voice.

He knows that voice because he’s been orgasming to the sound of it in his head whispering “pretty boy” but now it’s telling him about tests and it’s a bit too much to handle at once.

Louis still hasn’t looked up from the papers when he asks, “Test?” Because that is all he can say right now.

“Yeah, it’s quite important, worth 10% of our grade-- hey, are you okay?”

He nods, finally raising his head because this is the moment of truth.

“Good, so, uh, just give me the papers back tomorrow?”

This is not Harry. This boy is not his Harry, he’s an impostor with a similar voice, and the same eyes. But that’s all they have in common. Gone is the leather jacket, replaced with an ugly sweater with a tetris design in various shades of brown. It looks like it came from a thrift shop and Louis thinks for a moment it should have stayed in the previous century. The only thing missing from this ensemble is a pair of big bottle glasses with some tape in the middle. It shocks Louis how much an outfit can change, but when his eyes scan down the boy’s body he notes the tight skinny jeans are still there and he is pleased to note that his horny brain hadn’t made Harry’s thighs out to be better than they really are. The boots are similar, but an off brown color, more scuffs in the front where the leather wore down.

The real difference isn’t even the lack of a leather jacket, but the way he stands, his attitude. The Harry he met at the party was a cocky little shit, standing against the counter like a god, like he knew what he did to everyone in the room. He looked like he didn’t go to school, choosing to sit on the hood of a red car and smoke weed until his lips were puffy and a little dry. This Harry looks like he has never missed a day of school and is on the honor roll, all while tutoring other kids after class. He probably does extra credit assignments for fun or something.

Louis hadn’t even noticed him sitting in the front of the room, but now that he thinks back on the semester he thinks he’s seen him raise his hand quite often, just never really paid attention. Because he was looking for his Harry not a quiet teacher’s pet.

Harry waves the papers in front of him, eyes shining with amusement. “You okay?”

Louis snaps out of it, nodding quickly and grabbing the papers. Harry smiles, winking once, and seems to disappear out of the room a second later.

 

~~~~~

 

“But listen why is his dick so big?” This is definitely the sixth time Louis has asked this. They are all seated at their usual lunch table and he’s freaking out. Zayn looks away from Liam, and Louis tries not to smirk at how they are clearly brushing fingers on the dirty table. It's romantic if one can ignore the peanut butter stains and the slight smear of tomato sauce on Liam's lip. Zayn seems to be trying not to lick it off.

“Louis, nerds can have big dicks. Being studious doesn't make your dick small,” Zayn states, taking a sip of his fruit juice. Louis resist the urge to knock the stupid little juice box out of his hands.

“Now is not the time for big words Zayn, I am having a crisis.”

He rolls his eyes, “When aren't you panicking over dick?”

Louis purses his lips in annoyance. They don’t seem to see his issue with the situation at hand. But that might be because they never met Harry at the party. “I just don’t understand how he went from his absolute walking sex god into this kid who sits at the front of the room.”

“Poor Louis, his sex fantasies of a bad boy ruined,” Niall pouts, throwing a fry at Louis. “We should drop everything and rush to his aid.”

 

Louis reads the careful font at the top of the paper the boy had given him. Harry Styles. "Guys, how much do you love me?"

"Not at all; don't even bother," is Liam's blunt reply barely moments after Louis even asked. He regrets corrupting Liam.

 

~~~~~

 

Harry turns out to be in his precalculus class as well, which Louis finds out promptly after stumbling in late and finding the only empty seat next to Harry in the front of the room. He smiles sheepishly at the teacher, hoping not to get marked late. Just a few months into the term and Coach Simon is already yelling about his constant tardiness, threatening to have him benched for the next two games if the number gets any higher. He knows it's an empty threat since he's captain but at the very least coach could make him run suicide drills and he is still recovering from the last time.

Shuffling into the chair and throwing his bag onto the ground, Louis fails at being quiet, noticing grimaces from Mr. Dolen. Taking out a notebook, Louis catches Liam's eye from across the room, silently glaring for not saving him a seat. His phone buzzes with a text moments later.

_i didnt know if u were coming_

_course i was coach would break my legs_

_at least your sitting next to your lover_

_fuck off_

Louis puts his phone away and takes out a notebook. It might be for another class but he doesn't really care to check. Shifting slightly in his seat so he's angled towards Harry, Louis observes the boy who doesn't seem to have noticed him come in at all. He's taking notes carefully, pen never stopping its movement across the paper. His curls are falling into his eyes and Louis resists the urge to tuck one springy bit behind his ear, and then promptly kiss him until his lips are even more red and bitten than they are now. Harry doesn't seem to feel his gaze, his glance switching from the board, where the teacher is writing a formula, to his notebook. Louis straightens his back a bit, sitting up in his seat just enough to sneak a peek at it. He nearly falls out of his chair mouth open in shock as he finds the page full from top to bottom. He doesn't think he's taken so many notes in a week.

It isn't until their tests are handed back that Louis understands how smart Harry is when he finds the bright red A scribbled on his paper. His pencil falls out of his hand with a loud clatter and Harry finally looks up, his bright green eyes meeting Louis' blue as he looks down for the source of the sound. Louis feels sparks going down his spine from their eye contact, knows it's the tension from the night of the party. And he wonders how to phrase his thoughts, how to ask if hey maybe you remember when you had your hand around my dick?

Harry stretches one long skinny jean clad leg out, kicking the pen closer to them. He then leans down to get it, clearly understanding that Louis is frozen in place. His eyes scan Harry's back as he leans down to pick it up, watching the way his back muscles flex under his sweater. The color of the fabric is ugly, a horrible brown color, but it fits his shoulders perfectly, and Louis is willing to overlook the color when his jeans are so well fitting. He snaps out of his pondering when he sees Harry holding his pencil in hand, looking at the tip. It's broken apparently and he reaches into his bag.

Louis is momentarily struck by the sheer sight of his huge leather messenger bag, full to the brim with books, before Harry pulls out a large pencil case. Louis tries not to stare at his huge hands as he handles the bag, opening it and taking out one pencil. Out of like a hundred.

He holds it out to Louis, smiling softly.

Louis takes it, marveling at how well sharpened it is to avoid blushing under the boy’s warm gaze.

 

~~~~~

 

It was Louis' idea, because all of their crazy ideas come from him, but he knows if they are caught he will adamantly deny it. It's easy to blame Niall, especially since he never really cares or bothers to dispute the blame. Niall's very easy going like that. Louis almost envies it.

They're sat behind the bushes at the back of the school building right in front of the parking lot, keeping their eyes on the people leaving the school.

It had all started when a week before Louis had proclaimed that it is of utmost importance that his friends do everything they can to find out about Harry Styles and to do so urgently. They had come with little bits of information here and there: Niall dropping by after school to play xbox and mentioning that Harry likes to eat lunch off campus or Zayn passing Louis a blunt as he mumbles, "Harry has an after school meeting with the English teacher every Friday."

Which brings them here, on a Friday after school (because conveniently they don't have practice), sitting in the bushes and staring at a mostly empty parking lot and waiting for Harry to come outside so they can see if he really is Louis' boy or if he's just an impostor with similar eyes and hair.

They've been sitting here since the bell for end-of-class rang, having rushed to occupy the area as if anybody else would be dying to have little leaves pushing themselves into their asscracks through their jeans. Almost everybody has left the school, most teachers having gotten into their small and sensible eco-friendly cars before driving home to grade papers and ruin children's lives. (All in a days work really.)

Liam and Zayn are pressed side to side, sharing a granola bar and mumbling about their weekend plans, while Niall, like the good sidekick he is, stays by Louis.

"Where is he? Is he planning on spending the night here?" Liam asks, seemingly growing tired of his position, crouched on the grass because his mom will apparently kill him if he gets grass stains on his pants. Louis has no such qualms. And they call him the drama queen.

"Shut up and keep looking, we need to see if he rides the stupid motorcycle."

"Okay but what the fuck is that going to change man? Is the motorcycle going to determine whether or not you guys touch cocks ever again or?" Zayn chimes in, his hand rubbing his boyfriends back.

Louis thinks it should be illegal to do so in front of painfully single friends. Especially because Niall is now under the impression that his few hook ups with Barb means they have an actual chance at a relationship. Unlikely, but Louis isn't one to break his friends' hearts.

"I don't understand why you three can't just help me for once without complaining the entire time, honestly, it's like I ask for that much from you all. I just want to find Harry and to figure out what his deal is."

"Great-- here's your chance," Niall snorts, pushing Louis out from behind their hiding spot and onto the sidewalk.

As Louis tries to stand up, ready to ask what the fuck is wrong with his friend, he realizes that Harry just walked by and flips Niall off, choosing to follow the other boy instead.

They walk for a few moments, Louis trying to stay quiet so he won't get caught and doesn't have to explain why he is following Harry. The parking lot is quite empty by now and Louis looks around trying to find the beautiful motorcycle. They're at the end of the parking lot, walking towards the exit, when he realizes that the motorcycle is parked across the street as he watches Harry practically skip across the road, pulling the keys out of his extremely tight pants. He seems to unlock the back, pulling out a helmet, and closes it once more, moving to the front of the motorcycle.

Louis knows this is his only chance, so that's really all he can blame his stupidity on when he rushes across the street, not even bothering to check for cars, screaming "Wait!"

Harry turns around, almost as if in slow motion, his curls swaying in the wind and Louis wants to drive off into the sunset with him, weird nerdy attitude be damned. Harry looks not at all surprised to see him, slow smile spreading across his face, dimples showing (and yes Louis really wants to go back to the night of the party now). "Louis, hi."

"Hi." It seems that's the extent of the brilliant conversation Louis had planned.

"How've you been then?" Harry asks, voice so deep it mimics the gravel Louis is standing on, feet shuffling side to side as he tries to understand the boy in front of him.

"Good. Great, fantastic even."

"That sounds," Harry pauses, eyes crinkling in amusement. "Fantastic."

"Right, so, I've been looking for you." Which is not what Louis meant to say, especially since now he looks like a complete creep. "Not that I've like checked the school records or something or asked the guidance counselor for your name, although I doubt she'd give it to me, but I just, like, yeah."

"Weren't looking very hard, babe, I'm in two of your classes and I've been to every home soccer game this year," Harry says, running a hand through his curls and Louis is jealous of that hand. He has never been jealous of a hand before. But then he thinks about how Harry's hands get to touch his chest and his cock and his ass and yeah he's probably going to hell for the amount of envy coursing through him right now.

"My personal cheerleader, are you?" Louis asks, not knowing why that came out of his mouth but not regretting it when Harry blushes. It seems his lack of a brain to mouth filter has some benefits. Even if the drawbacks have more consequences.

“Mmhm, forgot the skirt sorry, it didn’t fit quite well,” Harry replies, cheeky as ever, eyes crinkling at the corner, dimples out full force.

“Shame, I wouldn’t mind an ill fitting skirt. Might distract me from the field though.” He winks, hoping it doesn’t come across as too cheesy. When Harry’s grin gets wider, more playful, he realizes he’s worrying for no reason. Louis wonders why their banter is so easy, wonders if maybe this Harry is worth getting to know as well, even if his bad boy image is tainted with a bag full of textbooks and a seemingly nerdy personality.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time when I’m at the store.”

“Maybe we can get you into one of my football jerseys, ‘Tomlinson’ on the back, proper supportive then. You can let everyone know just who you’re cheering on,” Louis knows he’s being risky, playing with fire. But the way Harry leans towards him, hand on the motorcycle seat, speaks volumes about their chemistry.

Harry blinks once. Twice. Three times. Licks his lips. “Want to go get milkshakes?”

And Louis really could never resist pretty curls.

 

~~~~~

 

Louis always thought that riding a motorcycle would feel like flying across the open road. He’d listened to enough Lana Del Rey to know she is always crooning about the freedom of the wind in her hair and the American Dream. But it’s anything but. The road had been winding before him and the nice streets he’d grown up in suddenly looked like a death wish.

Sitting down on the motorcycle hadn’t been hard, especially since he was behind Harry, was allowed to wrap his arms around his toned chest, carefully ignoring the ugly sweater. But when Harry had kicked the stop up and turned the engine on, Louis felt his stomach twist. They drove off, the motorcycle making sharp twists and turns, often angling dangerously close to the cement. Louis didn’t even get to enjoy holding onto Harry because he was sure he would die at any moment. His gut was in his ass the entire ride and his heart was hammering at unusual rates. Louis had probably lost a good ten years of his life for those ten minutes he spent shaking and glued to the seat of the sleek machine.

He was rethinking the aesthetic benefits of motorcycles. Of course having seen Harry leaning on the ride, he can easily see himself on his knees before the boy, the sharp road digging into his knees, leaving scrapes to remember for days to come. But sitting on the actual thing is far less exciting.

He thinks he’s grown a new respect for anyone who rides the death machines. Standing up off the motorcycle, he feels his stomach lurch as his feet tangle together. Harry catches him just in time, laughing quietly.

“Careful babe, don’t want to have to take you to the emergency room.”

They walk into the small ice cream parlor with Harry’s hand around Louis’ waist, carefully tugging him along. He figures it’s best to use the situation to his advantage and presses his face to Harry’s neck, inhaling the soft scent of his shampoo, full of coconut and citrus. Harry smells like the beach, like sweat, like boy, and Louis wants to wrap himself in it. The little shop is covered in pastels, cotton candy pink and lavender on the walls, with sky blue tables and white chairs. The entire place looks like something out of a fantasy. Louis finds himself feeling small and young again as they step up to the counter to order. There’s rows and rows of ice cream buckets, each more empty than the other, a sign proclaiming “MADE FRESH DAILY.”

The menu is long, covering a good portion of the wall behind the counter. There seems to be every type of smoothie and milkshake here. Louis scans the options. He wants chocolate, because it’s hard to go wrong with the classic, but lately he’s been feeling more partial to vanilla.

He’s still mulling it over when he hears Harry speak. “I’ll have the peanut butter banana milkshake to stay, please.”

The girl behind the counter nods, grabbing a large glass and turning to the work area.

“Peanut butter banana?” Louis asks, poking a finger into Harry’s dimple when it shows as he smiles sheepishly.

“It’s good. Tastes like childhood.” He mumbles, blushing under Louis’ gaze.

The girl clears her throat and Louis turns to find she’s finished with Harry’s drink, the tall glass standing on the counter, precipitation slowly running down the sides. It’s a soft brown color with whipped cream and a banana slice stuck onto the straw.

“Would you like anything?” She asks, smile on her face. She looks nice, her curls dyed pink to match the store.

“I’ll have a cookies and cream milkshake, thanks.”

She nods, making the drink in record time before placing it beside Harry’s. Louis immediately reaches for his wallet as she looks between the two of them, asking, “Is this together, or?”

Louis is shaking his head, fingers already tugging out some crumpled bills out of his wallet when Harry speaks up, “Together.”

Louis looks up in surprise, finding that Harry is already handing over a tenner, his wallet back in his pocket, telling the girl to keep the change, before grabbing both the glasses and leading the way towards the chairs in the back of the parlor.

The entire back area is set up with large armchairs but Harry picks the two chairs with the small table between them. He puts the glasses down quickly, rushing to pull out Louis’ chair, almost making him crumple to the floor in surprise. They end up seated across from each other beside the window, their eyes catching as they blush in the soft light of the parlor. Their knees are brushing below the table and its really too cold and too late in the year for icy milkshakes but Louis finds he doesn’t mind. Especially not with Harry sitting across from him with pink cheeks and a red nose, taking slow sips of his milkshake, puffy lips wrapped around the straw.

“So, Harry Styles, the enigma,” Louis begins as he takes a sip of his milkshake, almost moaning at the delicious taste. It’s clearly fresh and homemade, and he takes another long sip, feeling his back teeth hurt from the cold.

“How so Louis Tomlinson?” Harry asks, his hands wrapped around the glass, eyes bright as if he is challenging Louis.

“Well, I can’t say I understand you, to be honest. Leather jackets and banana milkshakes?”

Harry shakes out his hair, eyebrows furrowing a bit. “It’s a banana peanut butter milkshake, and I don’t really understand what you’re saying.”

Louis sighs, tracing the condensation on the glass in the shape of a star. “I just met you, and you were this cool kid in a leather jacket, but then you were also washing dishes?” Louis looks up at Harry, waiting for his cue to go on. The boy just nods, his drink forgotten as he watches Louis with care. “And then I’m searching for you all over the school, but I’m looking for the wrong guy. Because I was sorta looking for the leather jacket but it turns out you’re kinda nerdy? Not in a bad way! But, definitely more study oriented than I expected.”

Louis looks up from where he had been staring at his hands, watching Harry as he bites his lip. “Well, I never really cared about fitting a set stereotype, y’know? I like leather jackets, and my motorcycle, but I also like sweaters that I find at the local thrift shop.” He pauses, taking a sip of his milkshake. Louis watches with fascination; the way Harry seems to do everything so slowly. “And yeah, I care about school, I mean, I guess I care a bit too much sometimes. But I don’t think that takes away from who I am, or anything.”

Louis nods. He doesn’t really know what to say.

“Look at it this way. It’s not as if the guy you kissed was someone else. I wear leather jackets and I drink milkshakes. I work hard in school, and I don’t really try to put on a persona in school. I just throw on whatever I find in my closet that morning which is mostly sweaters. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like to go smoke some weed once in a while or I’m some kind of blushing virgin. I like sex and I like school, it’s pretty simple babe.”

Louis finds himself blushing at Harry’s statements. He feels bad for putting him on the spot. He also thinks the whole “blushing virgin” theme is extremely ironic. “I just feel like I never hear of you in school, kinda expected you to be this big bad guy roaming the halls.”

Harry laughs, almost snorting milkshake out of his nose as some dribbles out the side of his mouth. Louis wants to reach over and wipe it with his finger. It’s getting easier to bring this Harry together with the Harry that he had met months ago.

“I was friends with the old seniors, and they graduated so I never really bothered. Grimmy stayed nearby at the local college so we still hang out on weekends.”

“Grimmy?” Louis asks. “Grimshaw? Nick?”

Harry looks suspicious, eyeing louis carefully. “Uh yeah.”

“I dislike him. Nevermind that though, I can look past him,” Louis mutters.

Harrys laughs softly, twirling the straw between his thumb and forefinger. “Tomlinson, already getting jealous?”

Louis scoffs. “As if. You haven’t even properly courted me. I’ll have you know, I am a lady.”

“Good, I plan on courting you alright.” Harry smiles brightly, picture of pure nonchalance.

Louis narrows his eyes, quickly stealing Harry’s milkshake, taking a huge sip. He’s surprised to find it tastes good, the banana complimenting the peanut butter perfectly. “This is actually decent. Could be sweeter though.”

“You’re sweet enough,” Harry says proudly, as if he had been saving that line for the perfect moment.

Louis blushes anyway, hiding behind his glass.

When Harry gives Louis a ride home, he stops the motorcycle in front of Louis’ modest two story house, helping the boy off the seat. Louis is a bit dizzy still, hands clasping Harry’s biceps as he tries to stay steady.

“Was this a date?” He asks, eloquent as ever. He’s never been a fan of beating around the bush anyway; it just causes extra problems and complications.

Harry blushes, his cheeks turning pinker in the streetlights. He runs a hand through his curls, looking away from Louis before turning back with a shy smile on his face. “I was hoping it could be.”

Louis nods, feeling Harry shift closer. He can tell that for all of Harry’s sex appeal and skill in bed, he’s still shy when it comes to relationships. Louis is no better, having just tried to find the one boy he actually liked before realizing that he isn’t even who he expected. A date sounds good though. So he skips the slow build up and places his hands on Harry’s neck, silently asking for permission. When Harry nods, Louis pulls him down just enough, pressing their lips together softly. He doesn’t let anything stop him, even his shaking hands, which he tangles in Harry’s hair at the bottom of his neck. Their lips meeting feels like everything Louis has been waiting for. It’s different than their drunken kiss; less teeth, less urgency. They taste like sugar and Louis swipes his tongue across Harry’s bottom lip, little bursts of banana flavor, and he feels it in his entire body all the way down to his toes. He doesn’t need fireworks; is content with the way his blood feels alive, dancing through his veins with new electricity.

Harry kisses back just as softly, his tongue barely licking across Louis’ lips, little teasing licks from time to time. His hands are wrapped around Louis’ waist, enveloping him completely. Louis is dizzy with the feeling, with the smell of Harry all around him, with the slight tension in the back of his neck where he has to crane it to meet Harry.

It feels like everything Louis has ever wanted. Which is exactly when Louis realizes he wants to keep Harry.

His resulting gasp is eventually the reason Harry pulls away, his hands moving to Louis’ face and cupping his cheeks. He swipes his thumbs across Louis’ cheeks, feeling the crinkles below his eyes as Louis can’t control his smile any longer.

“I’ll see you again, I hope?” Harry asks.

Louis can’t nod very well because his face is still in Harry’s hands, but he tries anyway. “Let me put my number in your phone.”

When they’ve exchanged numbers Louis presses another kiss to Harry’s cheek. “Thank you for the evening.”

Harry chuckles, putting his phone in his pocket as he gets onto his bike, pulling on his helmet. “Thank you for finding me, Tomlinson.”

 

~~~~~

 

Louis thinks he hasn’t been this happy before in his life as he sits beside his sisters, playing princess tea party. He’s got a tiny cup in his hand and Phoebe is showing him how to hold it properly (“No Loueeee! Stick your pinky out!) while Daisy comments from beside her (“That’s how real princesses do it!”). His hair is full of butterfly pins and bow ties and his nails have been sloppily painted a light blue shade. Louis even thinks he likes it as he stares at the slightly smudged varnish on his pinky, which is very much stuck out just as Phoebe had directed. So he doesn’t really see the need for her lecturing, but little sisters are special.

What’s really making him happy isn’t the bowties or the tiara that Daisy is trying to fit onto the mess on his head. It’s the fact that Harry is sat across from him on the carpet, right beside Fizzy as he helps her with her homework. Lottie is in the corner of the room on an armchair pretending to be asleep while his mum is cooking up dinner before Mark gets home.

What makes Louis happy is the way Harry seamlessly managed to fit himself into his life. The way he didn’t even really need to try very hard at his first family dinner before he was a part of the family, cracking jokes with Louis’ sisters and impressing Johannah. The entire scene isn’t new. Harry had been staying over quite often lately, even though he isn’t allowed to sleep over according to Louis’ parents’ requests.

After their first date, they had went on a second date to the movies which ended with them kissing in the back of the theater and throwing popcorn at the people around them. It was rude and horribly cliché and high school love story but Louis couldn’t stop laughing as they ran from the security guards, almost slipping on the ice outside. By their third date Louis had already introduced Harry to his friends, and he was an official member of their group, allowed to sit with them even though Niall complains about being the only straight person without their partner at the table. The boys take to Harry like Louis took to him; fast and headfirst, but with decidedly less kissing.

Harry asks Louis to be his boyfriend on December 1st and Louis remembers the date because it is the first of the month and definitely not for any other cheesy reasons. Harry asks in a way unusual for him. While everything he does is slow and measured, his question comes as a surprise when Louis kisses him with a mouth full of French onion soup, spilling the hot liquid down both their chins. It’s disgusting and Louis regrets his choice as he tries (and fails) to wipe at his shirt, which was covered in the broth. He just makes up his mind to go upstairs and change into one of Harry’s shirts, since that’s all he likes to wear anyway, when Harry blurts the question out. He’s got a stray piece of caramelized onion on his jaw and he reeks of soup but Louis just nods slowly, trying to process what had just occurred when Harry knocks him over, kissing him over and over again as he presses him into the wooden floor. Anne finds them like that but she is more upset about the stench of onions than their rumpled states.

By the time Louis’ birthday comes around, Harry is a staple around their house and Jay often sets out an extra plate at dinner just in case. Both of their mothers call the other boy their second son, and Harry shows up in the middle of a snowstorm holding Louis’ birthday gift. Louis kisses him until his bones ache from the cold in his doorway before pushing him back towards his own home with promises to see each other once Christmas is over.

By Harry’s birthday they are the school power couple. At first Harry comes to Louis’ games with big banners, shaking his butt and yelling about how Louis is the best, from east to west, and Harry never really claimed to be good with cheers. He tries, though, and it’s admirable, the way he stays until the end of the season, and then still proceeds to cheer Louis on during their time privately. They walk down the halls holding hands and Louis dares anyone to say something. He isn’t stupid. He knows some people dislike their relationship. But with the way their hands fit together, he really doesn’t care much about the idiots who talk behind their backs.

So Louis is happy. He’s got a gorgeous boyfriend, who he likes very much, his family is happy and healthy, his grades are good, and Harry is currently making weird eyebrows at him. Louis watches his boyfriend, trying to understand what wiggle wiggle raise is supposed to mean at this moment when he realizes that his mother is in the room.

“Sorry, I missed that. What’d you say?”

Jay shakes her head fondly, air drying her hands, which are wet. “I said we are all going to go drive out to get Mark from work because the car is being shaky again. Would you be alright watching the food in the oven with Harry while we go?”

“That’s fine,” Louis replies, suddenly understanding Harry’s eyebrows wiggles. “Are you taking the kids?”

This sparks an indignant cry from both Lottie and Fizzy as they claim they aren’t kids anymore. Lottie is seconds away from pulling out her phone and concocting some special presentation of ways she is no longer a child and Fizzy looks about ready to slap her brother. Louis sticks his tongue out at them before turning back to his mother who is taking her car keys out of the bowl, shoving them into her purse.

“Yes, girls, come with me, let’s get you out of the house, you barely leave anymore besides for school.”

All four girls grumble as they stand up, walking to the front hallway and pulling on their boots and coats. They all finish getting ready in just a few minutes and Jay waves at Harry and Louis, blowing them kisses. “Be back soon.”

“Drive safe,” Louis yells through the door that’s already swinging closed behind them. He turns to look at Harry then, noting the mischievous tilt to his mouth.

“Yes babe?”

“Louis, have you ever gotten a blowjob against the kitchen counter?” Harry asks, voice all faux innocence, eyes wide and Bambi like.

Louis thinks back, noting that his blowjobs with other guys were poor compared to Harry, and realizing that for all the places they have christened in both of their houses, they never quite got to the kitchens. It’s funny because Louis once gave Harry a hand job in their backyard shed. But he realizes there’s a reason for having missed the kitchen as he watches Harry crawl toward him across the carpet in a way that is meant to be seductive.

“That is so unhygienic,” Louis mumbles, feel Harry’s hands drag across his legs. He knows arguing is moot at this point.

When Jay comes home Louis is standing against the fridge, his head leaning against the cool metal as he tries to regain his breathing. Harry is standing at the counter, sipping slowly on cold water as he watches Louis with barely concealed amusement. If it smells like come, Jay doesn’t say anything.

Louis doesn’t look at the kitchen the same way ever again.

 

~~~~~

 

“I need help.”

Louis is laid out on his basement floor right beside Zayn who’s got on hand in Liam’s lap and the other in the chip bowl. He keeps licking his fingers then moving his hand around the cheetos and Louis is considering saying something. If only because he doesn’t want his combined germs with Liam being all over the chips.

“Anything for ya Lou, you know this,” Niall says, holding out his can of coke to clink it against Louis’ as if they are having a toast.

Liam, who’s immersed in the movie which they had chosen at random but now seems to be Barbie’s The Nutcracker, seems to remember the real world for a moment, turning to Niall and saying, “You will regret saying you’d do anything for Louis. One day you will end up in jail and you will regret it. And I will say ‘I told you so’.”

Louis ignores Liam, which he actually does quite often, but only because he loves him. “I want to have sex with Harry.”

“Bro I can’t help you with that,” Zayn mutters, half asleep on the floor, his hand still in the fucking chips.

Niall looks thoughtful, however. “I can. Do you want me to tell him, or? Personally I thought you guys were already fucking but since you aren’t I can definitely go let him know you want to.”

“No you idiot, it’s not like I need help getting him in bed,” Louis says, taking a sip of his coke, grimacing when he realizes its gone flat. There are few things in life worse than flat soda. Or maybe that’s just him being a drama queen again.

Niall stretches, popping his back loudly and practically moaning at the feeling. “So what’s the problem?”

“The problem, you fucking tit, is that Harry is, like, super good in bed,” Louis chews on his lower lip self consciously as Liam and Zayn both turn to face him better while Niall just stands there oblivious as ever.

Louis sighs as Niall comes closer, taking a seat beside him on the couch and getting comfortable. He immediately grabs some chips, stuffing them into his mouth. Louis wouldn’t do such a thing; not after Zayn’s hand had been practically caressing the chips and who knows where his hands have been, probably in Liam’s ass.

“I never thought I would live to see the day when Louis complains about someone being good in bed,” Niall comments.

“Guys, you don’t get it,” Louis says, nervous suddenly. Its not like his friends would judge him, but he hates sharing personal information. Taking a deep breath he picks at some crumbs on his pants. “I’m a virgin.”

Zayn lets out a low whistle. “Are you serious? Tommo you’ve been chasing after dick since you got into high school and finally came out.”

“I know, but. I hook up with guys while drunk usually. So it’s really the alcohol helping me do anything, otherwise I would be too nervous. And I never slept with anyone because you know how my relationships go. I was hoping to lose it with someone I cared about. Not that I’m like this big promoter of virginity, but I’m usually drunk during hookups and I want it to be kind of special.” Finishing his little speech Louis takes out his phone, thumbing through it uselessly as he waits for his friends to comment. He realizes there’s an unopened text from Harry and he presses on it to escape the awkward atmosphere of the room.

_Babe are you free Friday? Wanted to have a date night._

_Yes you idiot – impress me !_

Somebody clears their throat and Louis looks up to see Liam staring at him intently, though he seems to be trying to put on his puppy face. It’s a dirty trick; one of his best facial expressions. Something about wanting to come off as innocent and trustworthy.

“So, have you and Harry done anything?” He asks, trying to look composed.

Louis doesn’t blame him. Liam is awkward in the best of situations, so he wouldn’t possibly enjoy discussing his best friend’s sex habits. Though it shouldn’t be as awkward as he’s making it. They had been the ones to first discuss sex together. Having grown up at the same time, they would always run to each other, talking about their crushes and kisses, and eventually exchanging porn and later tips. Louis doesn’t have enough fingers to cover the amount of times Liam has walked in on him wanking. This should be easy for them.

Then again, Niall and Zayn are present too, even though they don’t seem to have made a sound in a while.

Louis scratches his head. “We do things, sure, but we never really went there and he doesn’t push it.”

Niall chooses this moment to speak up, “Better not, or I’ll break his hands off.”

Some laughter runs through all of them and the air seems a bit less tense. Louis thinks back on the amount of sexual activity Harry and him had managed to fit into five months. There were the sneaky handjobs in the middle of the night and the cheeky touches in the school bathroom. At one point Louis did get on his knees for Harry in front of the fucking motorcycle. He can still remember the way Harry had pulled on his hair, fucking into his mouth lightly, thrusting just enough to cause Louis to gag a little bit. The sound of his mouth and Harry’s pants and curses were the only things filling the air where they were parked under a tree in an abandoned park. It was dirty and surely illegal, but Louis still gets off to the memories of the concrete digging into his knees and Harry muttering about him being a “pretty boy” for him, all for him.

It continued after that, of course, when Harry had laid Louis out on his bed one day after practice. Louis was still in his soccer uniform; jersey rucked up below his armpits to expose his nipples and his shorts pulled down just below his cock, the strap digging into his balls. He’d been drenched in sweat and Harry had licked it all off before letting his fingers roam past his balls, index finger lightly brushing against his hole. Louis had shuddered, already begging, his kiss swollen lips letting out please after please as Harry pressed his fingers into him. Harry had ruined him that day, with his huge hands and long fingers curling perfectly to press against his spot, rubbing it lightly and making Louis’ legs shake. Now when Louis fingers himself it never compares; his own fingers too short to really fill him up and he’s always moaning Harry’s name, wanting him. Louis pretends to be bitter about it, but Harry knows he loves it.

Which is probably how Louis knows he’s falling in love with Harry; the feeling less like the avalanche the novels described but more like warm honey slowly pouring onto his senses, clouding his taste buds and making him melt. He tastes Harry every time he swallows and feels the ghost of his touch when he’s in bed alone and he knows what this means.

“Mate, he’s got you dazed,” Zayn says, waving a hand in front of Louis’ face and effectively snapping him out of the trance. It’s a good thing too, Louis realizes, as he notes that he’s seconds away from straining against his pants. “So does he know you want to sleep with him?”

Louis pulls on his lip, chewing on his inner cheek as he thinks. It’s highly possible Harry has realized by now that Louis is ready to move on from fingers to feeling his actual cock inside him. “But he doesn’t know I’m a virgin. He’s always told me about his past relationships and he’s so much more experienced than me. I always feel like it’s my first time doing things sober and I’m relearning while he’s got it all under control.” Louis doesn’t add that he wants this to mean as much for Harry as it would for him, but the boys can tell it through his tone.

Liam immediately rushes towards Louis, pulling him into a hug. Niall and Zayn join a second later, piling on top of him. Louis feels crushed under the weight of all three boys but he doesn’t mind. “I see the way he looks at you,” Liam states, like it’s top-secret information for their next CIA mission.

Zayn seems to catch onto his idea, however, as he continues, “And trust me, you do not want to know the things he says about you.” He pauses for a moment, thinking his words through before continuing, “That’s a lie, you would love to know. But we won’t tell you because your ego is big enough already and all that boy does is rave about how perfect you are.”

“And your ass,” Niall adds in usefully. “Not in a rude way or anything. More like, appreciative.”

Louis snorts loudly, pushing the boys off of him to get more air into his lungs. Knowing them, they could potentially sustain serious body injuries from cuddling this way. Niall once ended up in the emergency room after stapling his own hand. They’re a clumsy bunch. “Of course he appreciates my ass Niall. He better anyway, or else he’s never getting his mouth on it ever again.”

“Ewwww!” Zayn shrieks, pulling out of their loose pile. “Louis, I know ‘best friend’ is a serious title but can you keep some things to yourself?”

Louis nods, knowing good and well that he’s bringing up rimming next time Zayn has got a mouth full of food.

 

~~~~~

 

The boys had helped him come up with the idea when they realized that Harry would have the entire house to himself for the weekend. Niall had immediately mimed thrusting into the air and Louis was about to slap him for it when Zayn seemed to get an idea from it.

The next day Louis tells Harry in the middle of their study time after school. Harry is laying on his bed, perky little bum up in the air and curls falling into his face as he reads the textbook. Louis watches him for a few moments trying to get the courage to say it. Harry is in torn sweatpants and an old t-shirt and Louis never felt so high. He’s sure that his brain is a mess of pinks and blues, his eyes wide and wanting. When Harry catches him staring Louis blows him a kiss and Harry catches it, smiling brightly and tucking it into a make believe pocket at the front of his t-shirt. It’s then that Louis feels like a tidal wave of affection is surging over him and he can’t hold it in any longer.

“I’m a virgin.”

Harry looks up from his book, eyebrows furrowed. Louis is sitting beside him, hands in his lap as he looks anywhere but at his boyfriend.

“That’s okay Lou, you know I would never mind something like that. I’m okay with waiting as long as I can keep you.”

Louis can feel tears welling up in his eyes as Harry sits up and wipes at his eyes, cupping his chin. “Baby, I’d wait forever for you.” He kisses below his left eye. “Don’t need sex.” Kisses below his right eye, hand stroking jaw the entire time. His breath smells like pretzels and grape juice and Louis could cry with the amount of affection blooming inside his chest. It feels like too much air, pushing out of his lungs, and he’s trying to keep it in and closed. “As long as I have you I’d be okay with my right hand and some crappy lube from the corner store or none at all,” Harry whispers, his lips against Louis’ as their breaths mixed. It feels symbolic. For the days when Harry gave him light, made him feel like he could breathe and dance and achieve anything in the entire world.

Louis knows they’re young, knows they’re a high school cliché, knows that the divorce rates are high, has seen it in action. Louis knows all of this and more. He knows what its like to close his ears from the sound of his parents fighting, knows what its like to be too young to really understand but old enough to know dad shouldn’t be screaming at mommy in such a way. And Louis knows that there’s a million and one stories like his on the shelves of some bookstore. But with Harry’s bottom lip caught between his, his hands pressed on top of Harry’s on his jaw, his soft words echoing in the air of the room, Louis also knows this is special.

 

~~~~~

 

When Louis had told Harry he was ready to have sex a week ago, it had been assumed that they would do so when Louis came over for the weekend while Harry’s parents were out. At first Louis had been worried and when Harry opened the door he was halfway to a panic attack, shaking on the front porch in his sweater.

Harry had let him in, pulling him into a long hug and kicking the door closed behind them. Louis immediately melted into the embrace, letting Harry maneuver him towards the dining room. It had taken Louis a moment to realize how Harry had set it up but when he did the gasp he let out was barely human. The entire table was empty, save for two sets of plates and cutlery, both filled to the brim with delicious looking pasta.

Harry had pulled out the chair for Louis before bringing a bottle of fine red wine his parents had gotten in Italy on their anniversary.

They had sat directly across from each other on the more narrow side of the table, playing footsie the entire meal. Louis made sure to moan and praise Harry after every bite, taking little sip of wine in between. He never lets himself have a lot, knowing that he wants to be sober for the night. Harry is the same, seeming to be in control of his drinking as he tells stupid jokes to Louis that the boy is convinced are all from the internet. There’s no way Styles could know so many jokes from anywhere else. And he definitely couldn’t have made them up; they were too stupid.

Harry had then cleared his throat and ran to the kitchen, coming back in with a beautiful dish and presenting it with a flourish. He placed it on the dining room table and cut it with a large serving utensil. It wasn’t until he passed it to Louis that he realized it was caramel brownies, something that he had mentioned was his favorite a while back.

Which brings them to where they are now, sat practically on the table as they try to get closer and closer. Louis is ready to forego the dessert, no matter how good it tastes. Harry is sitting in his chair, legs spread wide and looking particularly thick in his skinny jeans with a simple black sheer shirt on top, showing off the butterfly on his chest. He’s also got a scarf in his hair, a pretty blue and pink piece that Louis had gotten him for his birthday. It was a hard choice, picking the best scarf. A few times the shop lady had suggested that Louis look in the men’s section of Macy’s and he had given her the nastiest glare before walking away. Sometimes it’s smarter to leave, even though Louis had extensive knowledge in gender studies.

The trouble of buying it is worth it however; with the way the beautiful fabric sits in Harry’s hair and frames his face. There are curls poking out from under the colored fabric and the contrast is so beautiful. It reminds Louis of the blush on Harry’s cheeks and he suddenly wants to see him entirely flushed, wants to see that pink cover his entire chest.

Louis feels a possessive surge roll through him as he watches Harry chew the caramel chocolate with bright eyes and red red red lips. Harry’s wearing his scarf, Harry is sitting across from him with his foot wrapped between Louis’ legs, and they can’t look away from each other.

Louis takes another bite of the brownie, putting it down on the little tea dish quite loudly, though he doesn’t mean to.

Harry looks concerned, leaning towards Louis, licking his lips of any crumbs as he examined him in the dim light from the few lamps he’d left on. “Baby, are you okay?”

Louis swallows, nodding once. Later he will come up with seventeen different ways he could’ve said this differently, but he can’t control it when he blurts out, “Take me to bed.”

Harry opens and closes his mouth a few times, resembling a fish. He blinks and it’s as if his eyes have transformed immediately, turning darker and bigger, his pupils blown. He nods, seemingly in a trance, before standing up suddenly. The chair scrapes against the hardwood floor and Louis almost flinches at the sound knowing Anne will be furious, but any thoughts of mothers go out of his mind when Harry approaches him, practically lifting him out of the chair. Harry’s hands immediately find his, pulling him towards his bedroom.

The path is dark and they don’t bother to turn on the lights as they stumble through the hallways. It’s silent, only their breathing heard throughout the entire house.

When they reach his room Harry slams open the door but stops in his tracks. He seems confused, standing in the doorway and looking at his room. Louis feels himself growing impatient, a hand lightly tugging on some curls to catch his attention.

Harry turns around, eyes wide as he whispers, “I had candles and stuff. Can I go get some matches?”

Louis’ brain stops in its tracks. “Candles?” He moves past Harry walking into the room and surveying the situation despite the weak light from the window. There’s petals leading all the way on the floor to the bed, mixes of pink and red scattered in a pathway before being sprinkled all over the entire bed. Louis notes that Harry changed his bed sheets to dark solid shades before he realizes that there are at least thirty candles in the room. They’re stacked on the bedside table, seemingly in different scents, some pink and fruity while others are white and would probably smell like vanilla. There are more candles on the desk, all varying in size, some in glass holders and some standing precariously near the edge. None of them are lit, but there is a soft scent of sweetness in the air anyway.

“Harry, what is this?” Louis asks, giggles bubbling up in his chest. It looks like a honeymoon suite from a cheesy romance.

When Louis turns to his boyfriend, the boy is standing sheepishly with his hand in his hair, the other in his pocket as he shrugs. “I just wanted it to be memorable?”

Louis laughs softly, realizing his slight nerves are gone. He’d barely even registered their presence but now he doesn’t sense them at all. “Shut up.” He walks over to the bed and takes off his sweater, throwing it onto the chair in the corner of the room, before pulling off his t shirt as well. He’s standing only in his jeans, pulling off his socks as he falls back onto the bed, Harry watching the entire scene.

Louis only then realizes Harry is hard, standing there hunched in on himself as he tries to stay quiet and not comment. Louis gets comfortable on the bed, resting his head on the pillow and inhaling Harry’s scent before smiling at him shyly. “Now kiss me you fool.”

Harry wastes no time, pulling his shirt and scarf off in one fluid motion before rushing over to the bed and crawling on top of Louis. He envelops his body with his, hands immediately grasping on his face. Louis lets his hands settle in Harry’s hair, tugging on the locks to pull him down into a searing kiss, their teeth bumping as they press their chests closer. It feels like they’re melting into one body, their heartbeats pushing against their rib cages and Louis has never felt so whole.

He trails his hands down Harry’s back, lightly scratching his skin and feeling the knobs of his spine, each bump making his stomach flutter. It feels like discovering Harry for the first time, feels like they’ve never even kissed before. His tongue feels useless as he tries to keep up with Harry, fingers tingling and lips burning as he nips and bites at them. Harry tastes like caramel and chocolate and Louis finds himself tracing his teeth with his tongue until he can no longer taste anything but himself.

Louis is pulling Harry’s pants down, button open and zipper down as he tries to push the jeans off when Harry breaks their kiss. His hands find Louis’ nipples, thumb and index finger twisting and pulling just enough to make Louis arch his back and moan wildly. He’s different tonight; less restrained and hungrier for Harry. He’s had a taste, a feel, and he isn’t satisfied anymore. He wants to know how their heartbeats will feel when Harry is inside of him.

“Love, love, what do you want?” Harry asks, voice rough and cracking. His fingers don’t stop pulling on Louis’ nipples and he’s sure he’s going to go insane at any moment.

He presses his thumb to Harry’s lips, feeling the boy kiss it softly before nipping at the pad then licking it soothingly. “Please I want you inside me, want to feel you, please Harry. Been waiting so long, just want to feel you inside me.” Louis doesn’t know where this is coming from, his brain a mess, but he knows he never wants Harry’s hands to leave his body, wants to feel him tracing his neck with his tongue for the rest of his life.

Harry whispers a soft “yes” into his neck, before repeating the response without words.

He presses kisses up and down his neck, sucking on the skin behind his ear softly before trailing his lips back down and settling at the hollow at his collarbone. Harry lets his hands roam Louis’ chest, tugging on his nipples before lightly grazing his lower stomach as he licks and sucks at Louis’ collarbones. His teeth are sharp, tugging on the skin but his tongue is always there to soothe it before he is gently sucking on skin. Louis wants to be covered in marks tomorrow. He wants everyone to know.

“Taste so good, my pretty baby,” Harry whispers into his collarbones, licking down slowly. He moves down the bed a bit to allow himself better access as he leans down and wraps his lips around a nipple. His other hand immediately goes to the other nipple, fingers twisting as his mouth sucks gently. He nibbles just a bit, feeling Louis arch below him and moan loudly. He flicks the nipple with his tongue, sitting up and looking at Louis below him.

The boy looks wrecked, his chest rising and falling quickly as he stares at Harry with wide eyes and a half open mouth. His lips are swollen and eyes are blown.

“God Lou, should see yourself,” Harry leans down to kiss his boyfriend. Louis lets him, bones charged so he can barely move without shaking. It never felt like this. He’s not sure what that means, but he thinks it’s a good thing. “We should get you nipple piercings,” Harry continues. “You would look so good baby, your nipples would be even more sensitive.”

Louis whines, silently begging for Harry to finally get his pants off.

Harry smiles brightly at his reaction. “Love, we have the entire house to ourselves. Be as loud as you want.” He says the last part as he pulls his jeans off, revealing his milky thighs.

Louis can’t help the moan that escapes just at the skin being revealed. His mouth feels dry and he wants to feel those thighs hitting his as Harry thrusts into him. Watching Harry throw the pants to the side, having pulled them off, Louis realizes he’s going to finally get what he’s been waiting for.

Harry takes off his boxers as well, throwing them into the air practically, before leaning down to Louis and peppering kisses onto his hipbones. His hands make quick work of Louis’ pants and boxers, letting them fall to the floor.

Harry leans down taking the head of Louis’ cock and moaning at the taste. He does this every time as if every blowjob is his first, each time more enthusiastic than the last. Only Harry pulls off too soon, resting his palms on Louis’ thighs.

“Yeah?”

It’s a simple word, a simple question, but its loaded with meaning. Louis thinks he’s say yes to anything if Harry asked. Louis thinks he would paint the sky green for him.

He lets a hand run through Harry’s hair, landing on his cheeks and caressing it softly. “Yes please.”

This is all the encouragement Harry needs before he reaches below the bed and produces a bottle of lube and a condom. Louis thinks if he wasn’t leaking against his hip he would comment on how prepared Harry is.

Harry opens the bottle, letting some of the liquid pour onto his fingers before rubbing it around to warm it up. Seconds later Louis feels Harry’s finger ghosting around his entrance, softly tracing his puckered hole.

“Let me know if it hurts Lou.”

Louis nods, barely finished before Harry slowly pushes his finger in. This isn’t new for them-- they do this once a week at least, but it’s the first time Harry doesn’t have his fingers in Louis just for pleasure.

Harry slides his finger in and out, leaning down to suck a hickey into Louis’ hipbone as he adds his middle finger and presses two into Louis. He tenses up a bit, hands flying to Harry’s hair and the boy takes his cock into his mouth, letting it hit the back of his throat, knowing Louis loves that. He keeps bobbing his head, his fingers moving in and out of Louis’ hole at the same time. The boy is a whimpering mess, sweat running down his chest and forehead, eyes trained on Harry but threatening to flutter closed at any moment as his mouth opens once more to release a particularly dirty moan when Harry finds his prostate, fingers rubbing against it.

Harry takes this moment to push a third finger in with the two he already has and Louis keens, back arching as all three fingers thrust inside him pushing right into his prostate. He feels like a live wire, his lower body sparking with each touch from Harry. Harry, precious Harry, who is still sucking Louis’ cock and letting Louis lightly thrust up as he rides his fingers. His cock nudges against his throat and Harry gags.

The sound only makes Louis wetter, his cock leaking steadily into Harry’s mouth as he moans again, “Fuck, Harry, baby, please.” He seems to take a deep breath, trying to get some air into his lungs before he collapses. “I’m going to come.”

This seems to move Harry out of his trance as he slowly pulls his fingers out of Louis, letting his cock out of his mouth, hitting Louis’ lower stomach.

Harry wastes no time in ripping open the condom, rolling it down his dick and covering Louis’ body with his own once more. He runs his dick along the cleft of his ass, the head catching on his rim and making the boy shake. Harry leans down and kisses his boyfriend, their movements rushed and choppy, teeth pressed into soft lips. Louis swipes his tongue across Harry’s, tasting himself on his tongue. It shouldn’t be as hot as it feels to him.

“C’mon Haz, fuck me,” Louis mumbles against his lips, impatient as ever.

Harry kisses him once again, taking hold of his cock and slowly guiding it into Louis. The boy goes pale quickly, his eyes crinkling in pain and his nose scrunching up. Harry tries not to moan at the hot and wet and tight surrounding his cock as he kisses Louis again and again, little pecks to keep him calm. He takes it slowly, not wanting to rush and end up hurting Louis. Louis is laying still, his hands clenched in fists as Harry bottoms out, balls pressed firmly to Louis’ ass.

“I don’t know if I like your size so much anymore,” Louis says. The burn is bearable, but he still feels it creeping up his spine and his palms are aching where his nails are digging in from clenching his fists.

It prompts Harry to laugh as he collapses onto his elbows. “Nah babe, you’re still a size queen,” He mumbles, kissing Louis softly as he brushes his hair out of his face. It’s so soft for a moment that Louis can’t believe his luck; how he got a boy who can suck his nipples until sore but then sit and crack jokes while he’s inside him.

It’s another minute of kissing before Louis pulls away and whispers that it’s ok for Harry to move. The pain hasn’t gone away, but it’s duller, and Louis knows that this is probably as good as it will get.

Harry nods, pulling out just a little bit and pushing back in. Louis still looks a bit uncomfortable, so he focuses on angling his next thrusts, knows where it is from the hours spent with his fingers and tongue inside Louis. Harry pulls out a bit more this time, slamming back in with enough force to make Louis jolt. He looks to be enjoying it a bit more as Harry keeps pulling out, letting himself push forward.

When he finds Louis’ prostate, it’s on a particularly hard thrust and Louis ends up pushed up the bed, his back almost completely off the mattress as he gasps for air, loud curses coming out of his mouth. Harry smiles, satisfied, aiming for the same angle with each new thrust. He develops a rhythm, enough not to hurt Louis but fast enough to keep him on the edge. With each thrust he is pushing against Louis’ prostate and the boy is a constantly whimpering mess, moans only quieting down for short moments as his hands grasp onto Harry’s back, scratching at the skin so hard Harry curses at the pain blossoming on his skin. It’s primal, it’s beautiful. He has never seen Louis let go like this. Louis, who is always maintaining some level of guard, only coherent enough to wrap his legs around his waist and pull him in deeper.

When Harry comes, it’s with Louis’s lips on his and his name muffled into their mouths, air no longer a necessity. He crumples above Louis, trying to keep thrusting before he feels Louis come as well. His back arches as he moans loudly, his eyes rolling back and his mouth wide open as he spurts come across his own chest, shooting up to his jaw. Harry thinks he’s never seen such a beautiful sight. Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever accept the fact that he did that. He ruined Louis until he was an incoherent mess clutching and writhing at his bed sheets. Maybe if he does it again, with time he will believe it. Until then he can’t quite imagine his luck.

 

~~~~~

 

“Sooooo was it special?” Harry asks, his lips turned up into a soft smile. Louis cuddles closer, feeling Harry press into him, face half buried in his neck. They’re both sticky where they are pressed together but it’s not uncomfortable and he is too tired to move. “I know the candles didn’t work out, but.”

Louis laughs softly, not wanting to be loud and burst their little bubble they’ve created in the bed. “You could have taken me to a fast food place and I wouldn’t thought it was the most fantastic thing ever, all because it would’ve been you.”

Harry smiles brightly, “I think I love you.”

“I’m always a step ahead of you babe,” Louis whispers as he pulls the covers up over them, almost over their heads. “I think I’ve loved you since I saw you washing dishes at that party.”

“I almost didn’t go,” Harry admits. “I was going to leave after cleaning up.”

Louis presses a kiss to where his dimple is. “Good thing I found you then.”

Harry smiles brightly, intertwining their hands and burrowing closer. “Just in time.”


End file.
